Ever Since We Met
by Sineluce Velius-Tristitia
Summary: Sort-of soulmate AU. As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, the world entirely consists of his room, the living room, the kitchen, and his tiny hideaway spot in the attic. Mommy and daddy are wrong, he didn't need a player two if he wanted the GameCube. [Slash (Boyf Riends)]. [Trigger Warnings at the author's note (self harm, suicide, etc.); can be read without BMC knowledge]


**A/N:** Just dropping this off cuz I'm curious if there are people reading bmc fanfics here... Also, I literally cry typed half of this thing. I hate this site's text format.

 _(this format means STRIKETHROUGH)_

So, Welcome to this AU! **I SWEAR IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING**

 ** _Trigger Warnings:_** Racism/Bullying, **Self-harm** , Implied/Referenced Recreational Drug use, Minor Alcohol abuse, **Suicide, Major Character Death(s)**

 **Song:** Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met...) by Panic! at the Disco

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _My wing tips waltz across naive wood floors **~ §**_

* * *

As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, the world entirely consists of his room, the living room, the kitchen, and his tiny hideaway spot in the attic.

Occasionally, his mommy would attempt to take him out to the park where other children his age would go around and play. But Jeremy didn't like the other kids too much. They were too nosy and mean. So Park Days were spent hiding away into the cubby hole under the slides because Jeremy was too _terrified_ to be out in the open.

Soon, his mommy finally caught on to his reluctance and Park Days became less frequent and finally stopped coming.

As a four year old, he was more than happy to play in his room with his newly gifted Game Boy. (He'd wanted the GameCube but his mommy and daddy didn't think it was worth it to buy if Jeremy didn't have someone to play it with. Which was an excuse Jeremy never agreed with. He could definitely play one-player games on his own. He didn't need a player two.)

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

It was a particularly sunny day when Jeremy was interrupted from playing with his favorite plushie by a large truck creating ruckus in the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

Its engine rumbled much too loudly for it to be ignored and even up in the attic, Jeremy felt the vibrations.

So the blue eyed little boy scrambled up from his sitting position, clutching Mr. Wiggins (a dolphin mommy bought for him when they went to the aquarium) tightly. His feet made loud sounds on the floor as he ran to the nearest—and only—window.

Climbing up the windowsill was no small amount of effort but Jeremy managed it just in time to see a large U-Haul truck drive by. He followed it with his eyes, rocking on his knees in barely suppressed curiosity. When he can no longer see it no matter what angle he tried—even with his nose pressed to the glass—Jeremy jumped down from the sill and nearly tripped in his haste to come down.

" _Mommy!_ " He screeched, excited for some reason and unable to contain it. "Mommy! Someun's mobv-mobing in!"

Jeremy wasn't even sure if whoever that was would be moving in anywhere _near_ them but he was still excited. The truck was _huge_ —easily the largest Jeremy had ever seen. Not that he had seen many trucks in his short life. But it was so big he could definitely live there.

He didn't wait for his mommy's response, he just ran outside and tried to catch sight of the truck.

"Jeremy! I told you to wait inside!"

But Jeremy didn't pay his mommy any mind. He was still staring at the direction where the truck had gone. Excitement filled him up to the brim and Jeremy just _knew_ he would get to meet someone special. And like other four-year-olds, he didn't question that thought at all.

Jeremy felt himself be scooped up and off the ground.

"You can't just run out of the house!" His mommy scolded as she shifted her hold into a more comfortable and familiar position. "What if someone was waiting to take you away? Do you want to be taken away?"

Usually, Jeremy would have burst to tears by now because _no, he didn' wanna be taken away from mommy and daddy; he didn' want them to be angry at him_. But he was still too focused on the excitement that didn't die down. So he just pushed on his mommy's chest to look her in the eye.

"'m gunna meet them!" Jeremy told her in the most serious voice he could manage.

His mommy raised an eyebrow. "Who are you going to meet?"

"Them!" Jeremy said stubbornly because he _is_ going to meet them and frustrated that his mommy doesn't understand. "I will!"

Mommy frowns at him but Jeremy held his ground. Then she blinks and lets out a tiny gasp that had Jeremy confused but still stubbornly staring her in the eye.

" _Oh,_ " She says, absently rubbing her hand in soothing motions across Jeremy's back. "I- I guess you will."

Though still confused, Jeremy nods in agreement.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

Days passed and still, Jeremy couldn't take the truck off of his mind. He found himself just staring out of the window, waiting for something that would either come or not. Mommy had taken to carrying him away from the window every time he had to eat. She didn't make any comments nor did she try to scold him. Four-year-old Jeremiah Heere didn't notice this.

What _did_ snap him out of it was his daddy.

It was dinner and as was the norm the past few days, the family of three ate in silence.

This was in no shape or form a usual occurrence. Jeremy always had something to say; some sort of story about Mr. Wiggins or how he had captured another Pokémon that was not in his Pokédex yet. Daddy wasn't around much because of work so Jeremy took it upon himself to talk.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Heere broke the silence, frowning heavily onto his plate. "Did something happen?"

Jeremy didn't answer because it was always mommy who answered. Adults talk over his head all the time, he didn't like it but he was used to it. So he settled on staring out the window while absently swirling his spoon on the plate, occasionally taking a few bites so that mommy didn't have to bother feeding him.

"Jeremy?"

Slowly, the child blinked and turned his attention back to reality, only to see both mommy and daddy looking at him expectantly. Jeremy immediately became nervous, dropping his hands on his lap to pinch his fingers.

Knowing that they would only stare at him until he broke down, Jeremy opened his mouth to answer.

"I-" Jeremy stuttered out, feeling his cheeks and ears become hot. "I th-think I need to-to go out to the pa-park." He didn't know where that came from but it felt _right_.

He was busy staring down his fingers that he missed the look his parents shared.

Daddy was the first to react, "With the other children?" Surprise laced daddy's voice.

But mommy only said an "Okay, we'll go tomorrow" that booked no argument.

Jeremy took a moment to digest what was said before beaming at her. Mommy smiled at him but it seemed off though Jeremy was too distracted by the excitement that pooled at his stomach to pay it any mind.

He had never been this excited to _go out_ before.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

In his excitement, Jeremy had completely forgotten why he didn't like going out to the park and was reminded pretty harshly when someone pushed him too hard on his way to the surprisingly empty swing set.

Seeing as Jeremy wasn't too physically inclined, it was almost too easy for him to trip on his feet when he was pushed. Unfortunately, the ground was too rough and he ended up scraping his knees.

It wasn't the sting that made him cry. It was the fact that the one who pushed him down was laughing at him though the other boy soon had to go back into their game—a version of tag that involved freezing and stuff that Jeremy never learned because no one wanted to let him join—leaving Jeremy miserable and with bloody knees.

Jeremy swallowed down his sobs into hiccups, small whimpers still escaping from his pursed lips. He bit his lip as he pulled up his knees to see the wound, only to end up whimpering louder as he saw the blood.

"Woah, that's lotsa blood."

He sniffled and shakily wiped at his eyes. Looking up, Jeremy was faced by a boy with oddly colored skin that he was sure he'd never seen before. Thinking that the other boy was only there to taunt him like what the other kids eventually do, Jeremy shifted away from him and squeezed his eyes shut.

"No! No,no,no I'm s-sorree," The oddly colored boy stuttered out in a rush, his s's dragged too long and his words inflected with an odd accent that made it sound a bit hard. "I didn' mean ta mah-make ya cry!"

Jeremy peered up as he felt the other boy come closer. Suddenly, he found himself engulfed in a hug. Confused and feeling slightly warm, Jeremy's whimpers stopped though his hiccups never stopped.

"I-I'm sorry." The boy repeated before slightly pulling away, then he looked down and a look of panic overtook him. " _Ah! Lagot ako kay nanay_."

Jeremy looked down and saw that the blood stained the oddly colored boy's shirt. Though he didn't understand what the boy just said, Jeremy still knew that stained clothes are _not good_. He only ever got his shirt stained so badly once and Jeremy didn't want a repeat of that.

Also panicking and forgetting about his wound, Jeremy tugged on the boy's shirt. "We got to clean it!"

The other boy nodded before shaking his head. "No! We first gotta clean your _sugat-_ wo-woun- knees!"

" _Michael!_ _Okay ka lang ba? Sabi ko naman sayo mag-ingat ka! Naku kang bata ka!_ "

Jeremy looked up to see a short, black-haired lady with the same oddly colored skin as the boy— _is Michael his name?_ —speed-walking to them. Any more argument between the two was stopped as the lady knelt down beside them with an angry frown.

Unlike what Jeremy would have done, Michael— _that sounded like a name out of all the weird words the lady had been saying_ —scrunches his nose and frowns back at the lady.

" _'Nay!_ " Michael whines and bats away the lady's hands as she went to check on him. So Michael knows the lady. " _Ma! Okay lang po ako!_ " Then he points at the confused Jeremy, directing the woman's attention to the other child. " _Siya po yung may sugat._ "

Faced with the woman's scrutiny, Jeremy shrinks into himself, absolutely _terrified_ and confused. He felt tears prickle at his eyes again.

" _Oh,_ " The woman blinks and shifts her body so that she was facing Jeremy. "Oh my, I'm- are you hurt?"

Minutely, Jeremy felt himself relax now that he understood what she was saying. He did notice that she also had the same funny accent as Michael does, if a lot less obvious.

"He gots blood on his knees!" Michael piped up, pointing at Jeremy's wounded knees as if the woman hadn't seen it yet.

"Where's your mommy?" The lady asked in a soothing tone that had Jeremy relax further. Reluctantly, Jeremy points over to where the other parents were gathered in. He couldn't quite see them because the slide was in the way but Jeremy knew the direction.

She looks over to where he pointed before nodding at him, "We have to clean your wounds or else it will get infected and nasty. Can you stand up by yourself?"

Jeremy looks down to his knees where the blood had crusted over in a nasty shade of red-brown. He paled but nodded and tried to stagger up to stand.

The nice lady stood up too, but was poised to help Jeremy whose legs wobbled. Before he fell, Michael came to his side and helped him up. Jeremy smiled gratefully at the other boy to have a wide grin shot at him.

"Alright," The nice lady eyes them before ushering them over to where Jeremy had pointed to earlier. "Let's go children."

Beside him, Michael pouts and mumbles "m' not a child!"

"You are, Michael." The lady responded. "Now, what's your new friend's name?"

Jeremy felt Michael jolt before the other boy leaned in and whispered, "wha's your name?"

The blue eyed little boy darted a look up at the lady then to Michael. "J-Jeremy."

"He's Jeremy!" Michael burst out proudly before quickly realizing something. He turned to Jeremy, "And I'm Michael! Ni-nice to meet you."

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _They creak innocently down the stairs. **~ §**_

* * *

As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, his world entirely consists of his room, the living room, the kitchen, his tiny hideaway spot in the attic, and his new friend, Michael Mell.

Apparently, Michael grew up in his mom's home country (the _Philippines_ —not that Jeremy knew where that _is_ ) before they decided that Michael is old enough for them to move back in the States. It was why he had that funny accent and oddly colored skin (" _Tan,_ Jeremy. That's what you call it." His mommy had informed him).

So it wasn't much of a surprise to Jeremy that they were the ones who moved in with the large U-Haul truck.

After that day in the park (and being scolded so much by both of their mothers), they became the closest of friends. Not that Jeremy had anything else to compare with because Michael is his first and only human friend. They just… _clicked_.

Michael loved video games as much as he did and a mere month into their friendship, both had finally managed to convince their parents to buy a GameCube which had permanent residence in the basement of the Mell residence since it was bigger than Jeremy's attic hideaway.

Jeremy was almost always allowed to go to the Mell's house after their mothers had an adult talk that the two children _didn't_ try to eavesdrop in. (They did, but Jeremy was too clumsy and they ended up caught)

For the first time in his life, Jeremiah Heere had someone else to care for. His world had expanded. He didn't think he could ever go back to being alone; didn't think he could ever be _without_ Michael again.

Starting school hadn't been too much of a struggle.

Jeremy knew his parents had been worried about him attending school when he refused to interact with other children. But Michael is with him now. Jeremy didn't have to force himself to talk with the other children because having one friend was _enough_.

Michael, on the other hand, was struggling.

Being the only one with a different nationality made him a target for the meaner students. Jeremy failed to see _why_ Michael's skin made him different; he himself was too pale and small compared to other kids.

Usually, the teachers were able to interfere before anything bad happens. But Jeremy knew that the taunts were hitting Michael harder than he makes it seem. He would spend the walk home silent and subdued, completely different from the excitable Michael Mell. Those days, Jeremy scrounges up the minimal allowance his mother gives and drags Michael to the nearest Seven Eleven before going home.

Jeremy wasn't popular or talkative. Most of the kids in class didn't even know his name. But he wasn't bullied or singled out. He was the good kid who stayed out of the way. He didn't bother anyone, no one ever bothered him.

And then one day, Michael failed to show up to their meeting place when he went to use the restroom.

Unreasonably panicked, Jeremy went off to search the school despite it still being a bit early for them to go home anyway ( _what if Michael only stopped by somewhere?_ Logic told him, but the growing panic _wasn't_ something he could get rid of).

He found them by the bushes in the playground. Michael's things were scattered all over the ground while one of the older children picked them up one by one before either keeping it or breaking it. Michael was being held by another person and—

 _Michael is crying._

"C'mon you filthy dog," One of the older boys taunted, "you gonna keep on crying? You don't deserve any of these!"

The boy picks up something— _a pencil?_ —and throws it at Michael. Then he picks up a note book— _the one he and Michael writes on whenever they are bored—_ rips away a page, crumples it into a ball, and gave it the same treatment as the pencil, all the while continuing on his taunting.

 ** _Michael is crying._**

Jeremy felt anger coil deep inside him.

One moment he was standing there, paralyzed in anger, and the next, he was throwing pebbles at the bullies who _dared_ make Michael cry. He didn't care that he would get in trouble for doing it, didn't care that he would end up suspended if he did somehow manage to hurt them with how weak he really is. He didn't care that attacking them automatically turns him into a new target.

Jeremy. _Did. Not. Care._

 ** _Michael is crying and it was their fault_**.

As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, he could risk everything if it would help Michael feel better.

He was screaming his rage at them, uncaring that it would call the attention of the school staff.

And it did.

Jeremy found himself in the Principal's office as soon as a teacher finally managed to pry him away from his attack.

Satisfaction curled in his gut as he saw the bullies get scolded by another teacher. Michael was ushered away by the nice lady in the nurse's office while someone else collected his things.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

All of those involved were not allowed to leave the school until their parents came to get them.

His mommy was the one to pick him up because his daddy was still at work. When they asked, Michael had already been taken home by his own parents while Jeremy's mommy was in the meeting with the principal.

The drive home was silent and served to make Jeremy even more nervous. The anger had long since melted away and Jeremy was already horrified by what he had done.

By the time they arrived at home, Jeremy had started crying in his seat, too overwhelmed by guilt and fear and nervousness. He'd nearly thrown up when his mommy started running her hand through his hair.

Unexpectedly, Jeremy was carried out of the car and into the house. He was shaking so badly he wouldn't have been able to walk.

Mommy settled him on the couch where she wrapped him up in the fuzziest blanket in the house before positioning Jeremy with his back on the armrest and his legs across his mommy's lap. She pulled his head down to her chest and engulfed him in her arms.

Jeremy eventually calmed down enough that he was not in the danger of passing out from too much air.

Mommy continued rubbing her hand in soothing motions across Jeremy's back.

It felt both too long and too short a time when mommy decided to break the silence.

"Why did you do it?" His mommy talked in a soft voice, not carrying any anger at all like Jeremy was expecting. "Why would you fight with those boys? You never fought with anyone before, my little Jem."

Jeremy felt his insides shrivel at the use of the old nickname. Mommy hardly used it anymore; only in special occasions like whenever Jeremy made her particularly proud. Or when Jeremy disappointed her so badly.

"I-" Jeremy sniffled. "They were-were hurting Micha. They made Micha cry. Micha never cried before." He felt the echo of the anger that had _burned_. The memories of what he had done made him feel sick.

"So you hurt them too?"

Reluctantly, Jeremy nodded. He didn't like that feeling at all. It was too scary because he believed he could do _whatever he wanted_. He didn't like hurting people _at all_ and he had done it.

Mommy sighed. "What you have- what you and Michael have is…special. I can't be angry at you for doing what you've done. You didn't like it at all, did you?"

Jeremy nods, feeling relieved to hear that his mommy wasn't angry.

"Then you know what you have done wrong?"

Again, Jeremy nods.

"You have to answer me, Jem."

"I-" Jeremy stuttered through his trembling mouth. "I can't hurt people. Hur-hurting people is bad and makes me feel sick."

"Yes, hurting people is bad," His mommy hums. Then she whispers too quietly for Jeremy to understand, "But you'll end up doing it anyway."

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _Drag Melody  
My percussive feet serve cobweb headaches _**_§_**

* * *

Jeremy was able to get away without any punishments except for being on strict monitoring. The bullies were put up for in-school suspension due to repeated violations.

After that incident, things became vastly different.

The next day, Michael wasn't at school. Or the day after that, or the day after that, and the day after that. Jeremy was grounded for the rest of the week and was only reassured by his mommy telling him that Michael's mommy decided it was better for him to take a break from school for an entire week. The school was more than understanding and provided packets so that Michael wouldn't be left behind.

Despite the school staff's efforts in keeping quiet, everyone still found out what happened.

And, well, that was the day school became hell for Jeremiah Heere.

When before, he was all around ignored, this time he found himself pushed along the corridors and isolated more pointedly than ever.

 _It's fine_ , Jeremy would tell himself.

But it isn't.

Every day it became worse. Every time Jeremy looks in the eyes of the other children, all he can see is disgust and anger. And every time he looks away, every time he makes himself small to get away, Jeremy felt the rage spark.

And he hated himself for that rage.

So Jeremy stomps it down brutally, repeatedly tells himself he has no right to be angry—that he should not be angry. He'd been the one who had done wrong. He shouldn't have hurt them like they did Michael, because that only made him like them.

The weekend came with Jeremy subdued.

Even seeing Michael, beaming and vibrating with excitement as he hugged Jeremy, didn't quite lift his spirits up.

"What's wrong?" Michael asks with a frown as they went to raid the kitchen cabinets for sweets. The odd accent in his voice is hardly there.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy says, feeling an urge to do so. "I've been- been a bad friend."

Michael stops midway from reaching for something at the top cabinet, feet planted at a stool. "What? Bad friend? I don't think you've been. Unless," Michael rights himself up and stares down at Jeremy with narrowed eyes, "you stole my Legendary MTG."

Jeremy purses his lips before he grins. "No, I didn' steal it." Michael didn't have to be bothered by Jeremy's problems. The other boy already has enough on his plate. "C'mon we still have to beat our record."

Thankfully, Michael merely tilted his head to the side and said, "You think we can do it in three this time?"

"We could do it in two!"

Despite school becoming hell, life continued to move on.

Jeremy found that with Michael around, it was more bearable. They kept each other in line and managed to hide away from possible trouble faster with the two of them working together.

So school might be hell for the two boys, but it was _their_ hell and they knew how to navigate it.

What they had not accounted for was that relative peace was brittle.

A few months before Jeremy's bar mitzvah, Mrs. Heere left.

There was no note, no sign, no _nothing_.

One day she was there, happily catering to Jeremy and Michael's needs as they had another sleepover, and then she was… _gone_.

Her clothes were there, her jewelry, her personal items…everything was still in place. When asked, Mr. Heere would simply say " _I don't know_ " before attempting to drown himself in alcohol.

They didn't have a fight. They didn't have a disagreement. Both husband and wife were content with each other.

And Jeremy was left with _nothing_ to hold on to.

As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, his world is slowly shrinking into nothing but anger and self-loathing.

But Michael was there.

Michael was there the first time Jeremy punched the wall so hard his knuckles broke.

Michael was there the first time Jeremy tried to set fire on his mother's stuff.

 _Michael. Was. There._

And it took many first times before Jeremy remembered it.

It took one try of Michael slicing into his arm for Jeremy to fall back into self-loathing.

Michael _had always been there and Jeremy wasn't there for him_.

So with shaking hands, Jeremy pries the blade away from Michael's hand and places it on the floor. He kneels down and uses his shirt to stop the bleeding. It wasn't big and it wasn't too deep either, the blade had been slashed fast. But it was just above a vein, where Jeremy hadn't dared touch.

Seconds passed by in silence, neither of them knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy eventually says, fingers idly playing with Michael's limp hands, trying so hard to keep in his tears.

Michael scoffs, "You have nothing to be sorry about." Then his hand touched Jeremy's cheek briefly before returning it on his lap. "Nothing is your fault. I- I did this to myself."

"I-" _I can't lose you,_ Jeremy swallows. He tightens his grip on Michael's arm, fear and guilt swirling together into something heavy and consuming. "I'm sorry."

Michael pulls him closer and Jeremy clung to him. "I know."

That night, neither had been able to sleep without the other.

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _As a matching set of marching clocks.  
The slumbering apparitions  
that they've come to wake up _**_§_**

* * *

Michael and Jeremy entered high school hopeful that this time around, it would be better.

But it wasn't, because they attend high school with the same people they have attended middle school with. Some even from Kindergarten. The school social hierarchy had long since been set up and both Michael and Jeremy remained at the bottom.

On the brighter side, being a loser wasn't so bad now than it was when they were thirteen. They'd talked through their problems with each other and were all the better for it.

( _But they didn't stop. They couldn't stop. It was just something they did now when Michael runs out of pot._ )

Freshman year, they had been able to fly under the radar. It was a quiet year thanks to some kid named Dick who seems to garner the attention of all the bullies. And really, they shouldn't feel so grateful about it. But they are.

Michael had even gotten that Pac-man tattoo he wanted so he could proudly pull up the sleeves of his jacket.

Additionally, Jeremy became classmates with one Christine Canigula and immediately became smitten with her. He'd never felt fondness over someone besides Michael before and Christine was just likeable and reminded him so much of… Michael. (Maybe he needed a new friend? He keeps on comparing people to Michael.)

All in all, freshman year was by far the best year they have had. Maybe things are finally looking up.

Junior year started out fine.

Until it wasn't.

Rich Goranski became a name Jeremy feared. Between his taunts and threats, Jeremy was left to fend for himself as he tried _not to think of everything back then_. He'd almost forgotten how harsh school is. He couldn't even do anything about it because Rich Goranski is also part of the popular people.

And every time, Jeremy wanted to tell Michael about it.

And every time, Jeremy sees Michael's tattoo and remembers how well he is doing. He couldn't mess up Michael's progress.

So Jeremy pretended that his problems involved Christine. Michael seemed to get annoyed by it but not overly broken up about it like he probably would have if Jeremy told him of Rich.

Joining the after school play _hadn't_ been his brightest idea. Nor was it Michael's, really.

But he'd be fine, probably.

Or not.

Jeremy wasn't a people person. He _doesn't do presentations._ Being a loser at school meant he never interacted with anyone but Michael. Which was fine, really, but not in a situation where _Michael wasn't there_.

He'd ended up awkwardly fidgeting in place as the popular students (as in _The_ Chloe Valentine, _The_ Brooke Lohst, _The_ Jake Dillinger, _Jenna Rolan_ , and Jesus forbid _Rich Goranski_ ) joined in the fucking play.

Jeremy was suddenly very terrified of this thing.

And maybe that had been what pushed him into taking Rich's offer.

 _(It wasn't. Jeremy looks at Michael and sees how well the other is doing, while staring into the mirror makes him see a total failure. He's envious of that. He had been trying so hard and still, Jeremy remains to be nothing.)_

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _Here I am, composing a burlesque  
Out of where they rest their necks  
Sunken in their splintered cradles  
and ramshackle heads  
They ask for it **~ §**_

* * *

 _" **Jeremy Heere.**_

 ** _Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor._**

 ** _Your SQUIP."_**

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

Having a voice in your head telling you what to do is different from what Jeremy had been expecting.

He expected nudges here and there, maybe some scolding. He was not prepared for a controlling and manipulative supercomputer that was relentless in pointing out any and all flaws he had.

To the SQUIP, everything Jeremy did was wrong.

He walked wrong, he fidgeted wrong, he breathed wrong, _he thought wrong_.

Jeremy was terrible. Jeremy was useless. _Jeremy deserved to die because he can't even keep himself sane enough to be a normal kid_.

No one likes Jeremiah Heere.

Not his mom, not his dad, not Michael.

As far as Jeremiah Heere should be concerned, his world consists of what the SQUIP gives him now.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

All Jeremy had wanted was to be better.

He didn't need anyone else to like him, he didn't need to be popular, and most especially, he didn't need to be with Christine. Those were all the realizations he had come to before the SQUIP had turned it all around again.

 _Jeremy doesn't know what's good for him_.

If he wanted to be any better, he had to _upgrade_. To make _sacrifices_.

And staring at Michael's excited look _for him_ because the SQUIP had worked despite the fact that Jeremy had accidentally ignored him, the mere thought was enough to make Jeremy pale. He can't do that to Michael. He can't just- abandon him.

And Jeremy realizes, too, that he had to get rid of the SQUIP.

But as soon as that thought entered his mind, a blinding pain lanced through his spine and exploded at the back of his eyes had him doubled over and biting back a scream.

He felt hands over his shoulders and to his neck but every touch intensified the pain and Jeremy harshly pulled away. He looks up through watering eyes to see… _nothing_.

Students curiously strayed a look in his direction but no one seemed to pay any more heed.

" ** _Walk away now, Jeremy. We have work to do._** "

Too scared of feeling that kind of pain again, Jeremy complies.

:::...~~~-0-~~~...:::

After that day, he never saw Michael again.

Any plans he had for leaving a note or any sort of contact was quickly foiled by the SQUIP no matter how much Jeremy tried. Every time he came close to succeeding, the SQUIP either paralyzes him until he gives up or shocks him into compliance.

A handful of tries were enough for the message to be put across Jeremy's mind.

And then Halloween came.

Jeremy was happy to have found out a way to keep the SQUIP quiet.

But the situation in which he found it out was not happy. In fact, it had terrified him so much that Jeremy couldn't _look_ at Chloe Valentine the same way without fighting the urge to either run or throw up.

But still he did.

And after months of having that _thing_ inside his head, his mind was quiet. Which, at this moment, is only partially good because he is freaking out. He could barely think straight nor could he breathe in the too stuffy air of the house.

Jeremy quickly made his way to the bathroom, hoping that maybe it was empty of people.

Luckily it was and Jeremy stumbled over to sit on the toilet.

"'Sup."

Jeremy flinches so violently he fell from the toilet seat. He whips his head up and onto the bath where the clattering noises came from.

He couldn't describe how relieved he felt when he saw Michael, cleaning away junk he wore probably in a misguided attempt of disguise.

Michael started to say something— _something important, Jeremy listen!_ —but he became distracted by a weird whirring noise at the back of his head.

Then a feeling akin to being paralyzed took over him though he _felt and saw_ his body moving. He just _couldn't control it_.

Jeremy watched, horrified as the SQUIP controlled _his_ body and continually said things that made Michael mad.

Then a word that would never, _ever_ escape from Jeremy's mouth was uttered.

" ** _Get out of the way, loser_**."

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _As a child, you have set your heart on  
haunting me forever from the start.  
It's never silent **~ §**_

* * *

The day started out fine.

Jeremy woke up to the SQUIP's commands of getting ready, he went on to do his morning routine, cleaned up the mess his dad had left in the living room, and settled down in his room do homework that the SQUIP dictates the answers to.

This was how weekends go as far as the SQUIP had scheduled.

But then something disrupts his routine.

The doorbell rang multiple times in rapid succession. Jeremy jerked his head in surprise and when the ringing didn't stop, Jeremy scrambles up to stand, letting the chair fall down in his haste.

For some reason, the dread that pooled in his gut increased ten-fold and he was overcome by the urgency in which the repeated ringing of the doorbell incited. He basically ran down the stairs despite the SQUIP's warnings and made it to the front door in record time.

Struck by nerves, Jeremy hesitated before opening the door.

He was greeted by a red-faced and haggard Mrs. Mell. She took a moment to study him before raising her hand.

Jeremy was not prepared for the harsh slap that struck his face.

" _Gago ka! (You bastard!)_ " Mrs. Mell burst out, tears running down her face as she trembled in anger and sorrow before pulling him into a tight hug. " _Ano naman ginawa kong mali sa inyo? Bakit? Bakitbakitbakitbakit—Hindi- hindi naman ako nagkulang diba? (What did I do wrong with you? Why? Whywhywhywhy—I- I didn't have any shortcomings, did I?)_ I- I did _everything I could!"_

In the years that Jeremy had been with the Mell's, he had learned more than enough Filipino and Spanish to understand what she was saying.

And though Jeremy was still a little confused, he was unable to stop the prickle of tears.

But her next words had Jeremy's heart skip many beats.

" _Michael's dead_."

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _Ever since we met **~ §**_

* * *

Jeremy felt cold and numb.

Through the throngs of people that came in to offer their condolences, Jeremy stood near the door. He couldn't bring himself to move his feet, too paralyzed by the whirlwind of emotions that never settled into something identifiable.

It felt like he was in a hazy dream where he remained a specter that is cursed to watch in the sidelines.

Oddly enough, the SQUIP was silent. Jeremy was both grateful and not.

 _Is this real?_

His gaze trailed over to the coffin at the other end of the room, its lid is closed; protecting what is inside from the eyes of the others.

 _Maybe he'd gone to the wrong place. Maybe he would find him in school._

But the stoic faced Mr. Mell who has his arms wrapped around a grieving Mrs. Mell keeps on reminding him what happened.

He catches the eye of Mr. Mell and Jeremy was choked up by guilt.

 _It's your fault_ , those eyes say. ( _It's not your fault, Jeremy,_ Mr. Mell had told him over and over again, _You can't have known that the house will burn_. _Come here, don't blame yourself_ , those eyes say.)

Jeremy swallows the lump in his throat and looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _I only shoot up with your perfume **~ §**_

* * *

The funeral is today.

Jeremy had spent the three days of the wake lurking at the back of the room, never interacting with anyone even though Mrs. Mell had more than once held his hand until she had to do other things. The teenager felt bad for having to pull her attention away but he couldn't bring himself to move.

He hadn't gone home once.

But today, Mr. Mell had forcefully shoved him in the car and drove him back to their house.

Jeremy wasn't prepared to step into the Mell's house again.

"If you wouldn't sleep," Mr. Mell told him as the man handed him a set of clothes and a towel. "Then at least take a shower."

The clothes were all his. Jeremy had almost forgotten that they both had at least a few sets of clothes in each other's house in case of emergencies.

So as to avoid any more inconveniences, Jeremy sped through a shower.

And, looking into the mirror, Jeremy had to stop to laugh so hard he had stitches. In that moment of instability, he punches the mirror in a bid to _not see that terrible person looking back at him_. Jeremy laughed and laughed until it tapered off into broken sobs.

Mr. Mell rushes through the door with a panicked shout only to see Jeremy sitting curled up under the sink, surrounded by glass shards and shivering.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Jeremy mutters under his breath, " _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it was all my fault._ "

Vaguely, he feels Mr. Mell kneel down in front of him to offer comfort. It was awkward and stilted—Mr. Mell had never been an expressive person even before—but it was working. Slowly, Jeremy' shivering mellowed down into light trembling.

"C'mon, we have to get you dressed."

Reluctantly, Jeremy nods.

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _It's the only thing that makes me feel good as you do **~ §**_

* * *

Attending a catholic burial was different.

First of all, Jeremy knew next to nothing about Catholic masses and so he had opted to seat at the very corner at the back of the chapel. Second of all, the priest leading it was also Filipino so the entire service was spoken in tagalog. Jeremy may understand it to a degree but many terms flew over his head.

In the ceremony that involved the blessing of the coffin, Jeremy found himself ushered to the front with the rest of Michael's family.

With shaking hands, Jeremy accepts the small bucket filled with holy water and does as Mrs. Mell tells him to do. As soon as he was done, he passes it on to the next person and rapidly walks out of the chapel.

 _He shouldn't be here_.

Jeremy knew that. But he couldn't argue with the _need_ to be there.

He stares at the gates that led outside.

 _Go on. Get out. You have no right to be here._

But then a familiar car drove by. Jeremy squints at it through tired eyes and recognizes _their_ car. He watched as it parked and his dad came out.

It had completely slipped through his mind to tell his dad.

Jeremy stayed rooted in place as his father ambled through the gates, surprised to see him wearing pants and formal clothing. Jeremy himself wore simple jeans and a black shirt.

Mr. Heere reaches him and they stare at one another before the man pulls him into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," The man said in a rough voice, "I- I haven't been with you for _so long_."

It didn't take a moment for Jeremy to forgive him. If Jeremy couldn't forgive himself, then he could forgive his dad. It was the right thing to do and the best thing Jeremy would have done.

They made it in time for the burial itself.

There was another service held in the cemetery. Another blessing, another set of prayers.

But just before they lowered the coffin, Mrs. Mell was allowed to open the lid.

The priest, who was standing of to the side, quickly looked away, while Mr. and Mrs. Mell covered anyone else's view as they retrieved some things from inside. They stepped away, closing the lid, with something clutched tightly into Mrs. Mell's trembling arms.

Jeremy watched in a detached sort of daze as the coffin was lowered.

All he remembered was the look of anger and betrayal painted across Michael's face as Jeremy continued to say things he didn't want to say.

Then just like that, the service was done and the land was being shoveled back in to the hole.

Mrs. Mell approached him and his father.

"I- I think," Mrs. Mell's voice wavered, "I think you would need this more than we do."

In her arms were Michael's red hoodie and favorite headphones.

Jeremy accepts it with shaking hands, eyes blinking rapidly as tears poured down his face.

* * *

 ** _Ever since we met  
I've got just one regret to live through  
And that one regret is you_**

* * *

 ** _Ṩ ~_** _How does a heart love  
If no one has noticed its presence? **~ Ṩ**_

* * *

Michael Mell had always been optimistic of life.

Sure, he had his ups and downs, his detours and u-turns. But what he prides himself in the most is his capability to keep himself in control.

All his life, he'd struggled through being _too sensitive_. It had given him hell in his younger years but he manages to bounce back to optimism. If not for himself, then for Jeremy.

Jeremy is his best and closest friend.

If Michael hadn't been an idiot and formed one attachment too much, he would have said they were as close as twin brothers.

But, well, Jeremy is his _everything_. They've been through a lot together, been there for each other for as long as he can remember. If asked, he would say that Jeremy knew more about him than his parents ever had.

And life was fun. Life was worth living with his best friend.

Until it wasn't.

Michael had mentioned before that he was _too sensitive_. Everyone that mattered in his life knew this. He knew it made being with him hard because they have to keep teasing insults to a minimum (Jeremy had always struggled with that but Michael learned how to cope with it fine) but all Michael could do was learn how to wash it all away.

And really, he'd been fine.

But then Jeremy started ignoring him.

Yeah, okay, Michael could totally understand that. ( _He doesn't. He hated it. Every single second of that god-fucking ignorance. What had he done wrong?_ ) It happens sometimes, right?

So it was no small amount of relief ( _and doubt. Is he even telling the truth?_ ) that he found out the cause of all that ignoring. That ( _damned_ ) SQUIP had worked! Of course Michael was excited for his best friend. He could finally get what he wanted! ( _Didn't he want Michael anymore?_ )

So imagine his surprise and panic when Jeremy suddenly fell to his knees and writhed as if in pain.

Michael did his best to keep him from hurting himself further— _just like he always did_ —but once Jeremy recoiled from his touch, Michael pulled away as if stung. He watched, helpless, as Jeremy's eyes darted around before he scrambled up and walked away as if nothing happened.

After that, Jeremy was back to ignoring him again.

Michael was forced to watch as his best friend slowly became someone _he didn't know_.

Someone the both of them had always disliked.

Jeremy became a cocky asshole, son of a bitch that made Michael want to grab his head and slam it to the door while screaming at him to give him back Michael's best friend. (Michael would have done it, too, if he wasn't too afraid of hurting Jeremy because he actually is that asshole now.)

And so it took one failed attempt of Jeremy leaving a note _for him_ to snap Michael out of his petulant anger.

They'd devised a system a long time ago. It wasn't used much so it had been buried in other stupid memories but Michael had always used it until today. White paper for nonsense, yellow for something kind of important, purposely colored for something urgent.

He'd seen the scrap of paper Jeremy tried to hide but, luckily for Michael, they were seating right beside each other and he was able to snatch it up. It was a piece of yellow paper that had multiple scribbles of highlighter pens.

Michael casts a look at Jeremy only to see him spaced out.

Frowning, Michael flips the paper in his hands and only saw one word.

 _SQUIP._

* * *

 ** _Ṩ ~_** _And where does it go? **~ Ṩ**_

* * *

Sneaking into the Halloween party everybody knew about wasn't hard. But for added caution, Michael still went for a disguise he himself thought was pretty clever. ( _It was stupid, he knew that, but it was better than nothing._ )

It was really by complete accident that he was able to find Jeremy at all.

And Michael was so ready to give that boy a piece of his mind but one look at his bedraggled appearance had the words die at Michael's throat. He couldn't remain angry, not with something like this.

So instead, he jumps right into what he found out about the SQUIP because that thing _is bad news_. He was so sure Jeremy would listen to him because he had been the one to raise Michael's concern anyway. And what Michael had found out horrified himself.

But Jeremy…

Jeremy refused to listen.

Jeremy called him jealous.

 _Jeremy called him a loser_.

 _Get out of the way, loser._

Right, Michael is a loser. Michael isn't just Michael anymore because his fucking _best friend called him a loser._

Yeah, okay, he accepts that. He gets that. He's a loser. Nothing more, but maybe something less.

But his body refuses to listen to him.

Michael couldn't move, his hands started sweating and everything felt _so cold and hot and it was getting harder to breathe._ He didn't know how to deal with this. Didn't know how to deal with it _at all_. It was an endless cycle of panic that didn't seem to end.

He could hear banging on the door but Michael couldn't do anything but to try keeping his breath as even as possible.

The world was closing in on him and it was getting so _hot. Why is it so hot?_

Distantly, Michael heard crashing and screaming.

He opens his eyes and wobbles on his feet. When he tried to grab at the doorknob, his hand jerked back in shock as the metal seared his skin.

"What the fuck?"

Suddenly, the cobwebs of panic gave way to alertness as he banged on the door, asking anyone who might be on the other side what is going on. No one answers.

A different kind of fear froze his veins as smoke poured out the gaps of the door.

 _Shit_. Smoke and hot metal doorknob equals fire. No wonder people had been screaming earlier.

Frantically, he looked around for a way out. Seeing the window right above the bath, Michael scrambles to open it up. The smoke that had been filling the room spilled out into the night air.

Michael took a moment to cough out the smoke he inhaled before he paused.

The bathroom was at the side of the house but Michael could still see the other people gathering outside.

 _Would anyone care if he got out?_

He sees more than half of them had their phones out.

 _Of course not._

The jump down from the bathroom was rather high and there was nothing that could make his fall easier.

So he closed the window.

Michael laughed before starting to cough again as more smoke filled the room.

 _What the fuck am I doing?_

* * *

 ** _Ṩ ~_** _Trembling hands play my heart like a drum  
but the beat's gotten lost in the show **~ Ṩ**_

* * *

 ** _You have set your heart on  
haunting me forever from the start  
It's never silent_**

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _Ever since we met  
I only shoot up with your perfume  
It's the only thing that makes me feel good as you do **~ §**_

* * *

"I think it's time we had that talk."

Jeremy slowly shifts his empty gaze from the window and onto his dad. He doesn't open his mouth to respond, didn't do anything else in acknowledgement.

Mr. Heere shifted in his seat, deeply unsettled as Jeremy continued to look at him with blank eyes. This clearly wasn't the time for them to have that talk, it was _never_ the time to have _that talk_. Mr. Heere had vowed not to tell anyone about it but…

"Jeremy…" Mr. Heere sighed, struggling with the urge to reach for a can of beer that was in arm's reach. "I never told you why your mom left."

As Mr. Heere had been hoping, there was a spark of recognition in Jeremy's eyes and the teenager seemed more visibly attentive.

"She, uh," The man swallowed, mouth dry and heart beating so fast it would have been dangerous for many men his age. "She… had- she _had_ to go. I can't- I don't know what she had done but… she was _dying_. Not- not physically or anything. She just- just _was_ and I couldn't do anything about it. She never let me do anything about it."

Mr. Heere looked up and was disheartened that Jeremy had switched his focus back to the window.

But.

 _He had to continue._

"All-" Mr. Heere took a deep breath. "All I know is that she is only _better_ when she's with you. And I- and I, uh, found out… you- we- you're not my son. By blood. We never wanted you to-"

His speech was broken by the scraping of the chair.

"Is that-" Jeremy's voice sounded hoarse. "Is that what you want to tell me? That you never really wanted me in the first place. Is that why it was _so easy for you to not care?_ I guess I- I get it now. It was all my fault too."

" _No!_ " Mr. Heere shouted harsh enough that Jeremy flinched back. "It wasn't! I loved you- I _love_ you! You're still my son. And- and she's my wife. We- our marriage was for convenience. There was a man- he and your mom loved each other very much. I could- I could even call them _soulmates_ if it was real. But he died in an accident before they found out she was pregnant.

"You know how harsh her relatives could be when it comes to religion. Having a child out of wedlock would have been too much pressure for her. So I- I married her even though we've only ever been friends."

Jeremy scoffs tiredly, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Mr. Heere studies his son carefully, knowing his words would be taken the hard way. He shouldn't tell him. He shouldn't let anyone know. Jeremy had gone through enough and he _can't_ add anything anymore.

But Mr. Heere looks into his son and sees his wife.

Sees the desperation, the longing.

See the broken pieces that would never come back together.

"Your mom left because she killed herself."

* * *

 ** _§ ~_** _Ever since we met  
I've got just one regret to live through  
And I regret never letting you know **~ §**_

* * *

As far as Jeremiah Heere was concerned, there was nothing else in his world the moment Michael Mell died.

With the information he had received from Rich Goranski, the SQUIP had never bothered him anymore.

And there was nothing else left to do.

* * *

 ** _Ever since we met  
I only shoot up with your perfume  
It's the only thing that makes me feel good as you do_**

* * *

"Hey Jeremy."

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever miss… living?"

He laughs. "No."

Michael smiles, "Me neither."

They stare at each other, wondering why they had to have gone through all that just to realize that they already had what they wanted.

" _I love you."_

" _I love you too._ "

.

.

.

 ** _Ever since we met  
I've got just one regret to live through  
And that one regret is you_**

* * *

 ** _Fin._**

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 **Translations (The one that suits the flow of the sentence more than the literal translation):**

 _"Ah! Lagot ako kay nanay_." – " **Ah! My mom's gonna be mad at me!"**

 _Sugat_ \- **Wound**

 _"Michael!_ _Okay ka lang ba? Sabi ko naman sayo mag-ingat ka!" –_ " **Michael! Are you alright? I told you to be careful!"**

 _"Naku kang bata ka!" –_ **Literal:** " **You brat!** " But please do note that this is merely an expression. It is mostly said in a loving way. I can't think of any correct translations.

" _'Nay_ " – Short for: _Nanay_ " **Mother.** "

" _Ma! Okay lang po ako._ " – " **Mom I'm okay.** " _Ma_ is short for mama/mother

" _Siya po yung may sugat." – "_ **He's the one who's injured.** " Add: _Siya_ is a gender neutral pronoun and is the only version of he/him/she/her in tagalog.

Additional Info:

\- - **Closed-casket funerals** are done for people who suffered through major cosmetic damage that viewing the corpse would be disturbing or traumatic. So, uh, assume what you will.

\- -It is known that those who died of suicide are refused to be blessed by the Catholic Church unless they are given good reason. In this situation, they have all assumed that Michael died because he was trapped in the fire. (Except for Jeremy. Jeremy assumed correctly.)

\- -Also, it is a custom (idk if it's only Filipino but eh) for treasured items to be in the coffin with the body in the duration of the wake and retrieved before the burial.


End file.
